


The Dangers of Loving an Artist

by orphan_account



Category: Avengers, Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Art, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Stony - Freeform, really minor swearing, steve is a lil shit, steve loves to tease, the fluffiest of fluff, when steve can't sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve makes use of a unique canvas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dangers of Loving an Artist

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed a cute trend on tumblr of people painting pictures on their partners backs....soooo....yeah. This happened.

_There was something touching his back._

That was the first thought that passed through Tony Stark’s still half asleep mind as he lay completely still on the bed, face pressed sideways against a pillow, arms spread carelessly.He lay on his stomach, the thick blanket that covered the bed beginning to slip off the edge, barely covering him.

_And something was touching his back._

His mind was still slowly coming back into consciousness; the last whispers of his dreams still hanging in his vision as he slowly opened his eyes. The room was half-lit, and from the direction his head was facing, he could see that Steve wasn't lying in his spot next to him.“…Steve?” He mumbled hesitantly, starting to shift to roll over, hoping to locate his partner.

“Shit, Tony, wait.” Steve’s voice came quickly; Tony’s confusion grew as he felt strong hands on his shoulders, gently keeping him from rolling. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow, the smell of paint invading his senses. “…the fuck are you doing?” He asked in a groggy mutter.

The faint tickling sensation he had felt before returned, brushing along at the small of his back. One of Steve’s hands still held him carefully in place. “Uh…” There was a note of embarrassment in Steve’s tone, which was not at all muddled with sleep. He must have been awake for hours. “Painting. I’m almost done.”

Tony let his face fall back into the pillow, trying to process what Steve had said. “Painting? On my back?” He asked finally, deeply confused.

“Yeah. Well, I didn’t, er, think you would wake up.” The sensation of the brush against his skin paused for a moment as Steve refilled his brush, then returned, the cold touch making Tony jump slightly.

“My back?” Tony asked again, still not fully awake. “I could buy you any canvas you wanted, and you choose to paint on me?”

“I…” Steve sounded truly embarrassed now, but the motion of the brush did not stop. “I saw it on the, uhm, the internet. It’s a trend. Don’t worry, the paint is non-toxic.” He assured him quickly.

“You went on the internet? Without me?” Tony asked distractedly, a hint of teasing entering his voice even in this strange situation.

“I’m fully capable of googling, Tony.” Steve responded, with slight exasperation in his tone.

“Ah. I’m sure.” Tony fell silent a moment, shifting sleepily. The gentle movement of the brush against his skin was soothing, his eyelids flickered, wishing to close.

The silence dragged, Steve carefully working on the bare flesh of Tony’s back, hands moving deftly from the supplies of paints to his unique canvas and back, bristles forming swirls and streaks under his guiding control.

“Whatcha painting?” Tony asked sleepily.

Steve’s smile was audible in his voice; he leaned forwards and gently kissed Tony’s shoulder, where no paint was spread.

“It’s a surprise. Go back to sleep.”

Tony pouted slightly, letting his eyes close. “Tell me.”

“No.” Steve pulled back with a chuckle, resuming his quiet work.

“Can I guess?”

“No.” Steve repeated, still smiling. “Just relax. It won’t take too long.”

“Are you almost done?”

“Not quite. Relax.”

Tony sighed theatrically, then turned his head enough to shoot a smirk at Steve. “I’ll roll over if you don’t tell me.”

“You’d stain the sheets.” Steve responded automatically, not looking up.

“I don’t care.”

“You’d ruin all my work.” It was Steve’s turn to pout, though he did it only jokingly.

“Then you should tell me.”

Steve leaned forwards again, resting his hands on either side of Tony’s shoulders, lowering himself, careful not to let his chest touch the half-finished painting. Tony felt Steve’s lips against his ear.

“Be patient.” He teased, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You know I’m bad at that.” Tony whined.

Steve’s only response was a smile, again he drew back. Tony grumbled his disappointment.

Silence filled the room as Tony began to doze, the motions of Steve’s brush on the skin of his back lulling him back into a half sleep. He wasn’t sure how much longer it took, he slid in and out of consciousness, but his eyes flicked open again when he heard Steve’s voice, satisfied. “There. All done.”

“Can I see?” He asked, dragging himself back into the waking world.

“I can grab a mirror—,” Steve offered, moving to stand.

“No. Take a picture.” Tony waved a hand vaguely at the bedside table, where his phone lay.

“Right. Sure.” Steve reached for the device, quickly turning it on and carefully navigating his way to the photo app, with only minor difficultly. He moved back slightly, getting all of Tony’s back in the shot before he snapped a picture.

“Gimme.” Tony requested, reaching back for the phone.

Steve ignored him, carefully moving the paints to the bedside table, then lying on his stomach next to Tony. He held the phone where they could both see it; Tony reached forwards and tipped it slightly for his convenience.

The painting was a generic landscape – mountains, trees, a calm lake. The colors, blending, contrast, all completely perfect to Tony’s eyes. Not that he would have expected any less.

“Huh.” Tony nodded his approval. “Kinda expected it would be, uh, something exciting.”

“You.” Steve’s voice was dull with exasperation, although a smile tugged at his lips. “You expected I would paint Iron Man.”

“It made sense.” Tony shrugged.

“Only in your conceded mind.” Steve smiled, gently bumping his lips to Tony’s jaw affectionately to show he didn't mean it.

Tony turned to meet his lips; they shared a kiss for a moment before Tony half pulled away, brow furrowing. “How the hell am I supposed to get back to sleep without smearing the painting? You know I toss.”

Steve nodded, pushing himself to a sitting position and setting his phone aside. “I’ll run a bath for you. Help you wash it off.” He smiled as he strode towards the bathroom, flirtatious teasing in his tone.

“So that’s your game, Rogers?” Tony smiled sleepily, letting his face fall forwards into the pillow as the sound of running water filling the tub met his ears.

“That’s my game.” Steve chuckled, returning to the bed to carefully lift his partner into his arms, careful not to smear the painting.

“ _Our_ game.” Tony corrected.

“Our game.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, leave a comment, so on so forth. :D


End file.
